:r«œnt‡k v¼®Z©v oIËH©v o†mÁ†g‰C vº¤J«n›k¤t ¿v²Iv±h rʇC©s±h³u

Moses stands between promise and fulfillment,

Between leadership and loss,

Between life and death.

He is in the middle place, the pause, the lull, the in-between time.

We are there, in the in-between time. We are all there. We are there often.

We are there in times of joyous anticipation.

We are there when we wait helplessly as an unavoidable situation unfolds to its conclusion.

We are there when a Tucson summer passes almost imperceptibly into fall.

We are there when we dance and cry ourselves into adolescence.

We are there when we confront middle age.

Judaism asks us to experience the in-between time.

The siddur gives us the silence of the Amidah. It lies between the songs, chants, and blessings we do out loud, together.

"Havdalah gives us wine, fire, and spices, beneath the stars", to help us move with grace and calm into the order and ordinariness of our daily lives.

The calendar gives us the days of awe, those days, holiest of holy, for reflection, introspection and teshuvah.

The mystics give us the concept of white fire and the hidden voices in the white spaces between the letters of the Torah.

What God gave to Moses and what Judaism gives to us is the call and the opportunity to explore those middle places.

It is there, in the void, where we can examine our connection to God, our connection to one another and perhaps our connection to our deepest selves.

I was in that time as I contemplated turning 60.

I discovered that I was born during the Days of Awe, on the fourth of Tishri in 5707.

It seems right to me that I turn 60 today, during these Days of Awe, surrounded by

The sweetness of the new year,

The sweetness of maturity,

And the sweetness of friendship.

Shabbat shalom